ETRB
by Cairis Rin
Summary: Dead Like MeStargate:SG1 The postit notes list all ETDs, or do they?


Dead Like Me/Stargate: SG1

Author's note: Mild swearing, and well, death. It can't be a Dead Like Me crossover without anyone dying, can it? LOL! Inspiration struck, and this is what I wrote, I'm posting it same day, so here's hoping the editing isn't so bad. I've got the whole story in my head, so it shouldn't take me longer than a few weeks to get this baby out. Woot!

For anyone reading this who hasn't seen Dead Like Me, fantastic show, cancelled way too early in its career, and is basically about Grim Reapers. The story will explain all, no worries. :D Enjoy!

x.x.x.x.x.x

_Life is full of second chances. So is death. My name is George Lass. Last year I died. Now I'm a grim reaper, and I take souls for a living. I also work at Happy Time, a staffing company. Cause being undead, _sucks! _And it doesn't pay. No literally…it doesn't pay._

George stood along the wall near one of the market vendors. The pier was a great place to visit…full of overly priced really cool stuff, the smell of fish (fresh fish and dead fish)-

_I wonder if there's a reaper for the dead fish. Cause that'd be a_ lot _of fish!_

-and people. One of whom was named A. Monroe. Once again she looked down at the post-it note, it's yellow paper signaling the last moment A. Monroe would have on Earth.

A. Monroe Pier 8, Mack's Fish Stand E.T.D. 8:42 am

It wasn't much to go on, but it was all she ever got. And a glance at her watch told her she had but ten minutes till the Estimated Time of Death. Which also meant she only had thirty minutes till she was due in at the office. She'd have to reap and run to get there on time.

Sighing, George glanced around trying to figure out who A. Monroe might be, or even how the 'accident' would happen. There were gutting knives at the fish stand, signs atop the various stalls, any of which could fall, even as simple as tripping could cause an accidental death if they fell just wrong. Then George spotted it, the gravling. Gravlings were what caused a lot of life 'accidents.' The purpose of their very existence being to keep the universe in balance, or some crap like that.

Looking very much like little demons, most reapers were somewhat afraid of the gravlings, and in general could only see them out of the corner of their eyes. But not George. She could always see the pesky little buggers, even before she'd 'died,' she'd known they existed.

It scampered up the side of the fish stall and hissing once at George-

_Ya, whatever._

-then moved to the stall next door where a bunch of necklaces where hanging from hangers. They were the kind that was made of leather and pendants in the shape of dolphins, dragons, and other such creatures that might attract the unthrifty. Some even had precious stones attached.

Two minutes to go.

The vendor was struggling with untying a necklace, unaware that the gravling had gripped the row of hangers and was shaking it. It was either the vendor or his customer. And without time to figure it out, she'd have to do the quick and direct approach. Stepping up next to the woman waiting for her necklace, George asked, "Monroe?"

"Ya?" But it wasn't the woman who answered. _Or_ the vendor. George spun around to see one of the fish guys looking at her.

She was about to hold out her hand as if to shake his, the contact being all she needed to reap his soul, but suddenly she heard someone say, "Jack, what is _that!"_

"What's what?"

Somehow, she instinctually knew this new guy was talking about the gravling, and instead of reaping the soul like she was supposed to, she turned to stared in shock at the two men standing by the stalls. But the one, the one who'd spoken, didn't notice her, he was staring straight at the gravling hanging from the stall's roof.

As if it knew it was being stared at, the demon hissed, but out of time, it finally did what it had to do, and began the chain of events that would end A. Monroe's life. The gravling yanked on the hanger, causing the vendor to loose his balance. The vendor in turn lurched backwards, grabbing anything he could, which in this case was the front of his stall where several daggers of medieval design were laid out on display.

But the gravling was already running down the length of the stall, and with a kick to one of the legs, the front of the stall collapsed. The vendor's grip had reflexively wrapped around one of the sharp bladed daggers, and when he went down that dagger flew through the air behind him. Straight at George and A. Monroe behind her.

She ducked just in time, but someone else hurtled past her and over the counter, anticipating the event as he pushed Monroe out of the way. Unfortunately, he wasn't in time to miss the flying dagger himself. And cried out in pain as it stabbed him just below the throat.

_Oh shit!_

George was frozen in shock. The guy who had seen the graveling had actually _saved_ Monroe's life. Didn't he know that was against the rules! His friend…Jack?…was hurtling over the counter and into the fish stall. "Daniel! Shit! Daniel!" But when Daniel tried to speak only blood came out of his mouth.

George had seen death enough times to know that this guy, Daniel, wasn't going to make it. From the amount of blood he was coughing up, the knife had hit a lung, or two. He had but minutes, but should she reap his soul? A. Monroe was on her post-it note, not Daniel…whatever. But A. Monroe was very much alive, and his E.T.D. had come and gone.

A hissing to her right bade her look around. The gravling was pissed!

_Hey, it's not my fault! Not_ this _time!_

Then she scanned the crowd, wondering if there might be some other reaper there to take this Daniel's soul. Near everyone who wasn't staring in shock was on their cell phone already dialing 911. But no one was moving forward to try and touch the dying man.

She arched an eyebrow, frowning as she looked back at the mess.

_To reap, or not to reap, that was the question. _

Damn it, she hated making decisions!

Jack wasn't giving up, he'd already pulled Daniel's shirt apart and was examining the wound. Then he did something crazy. He pulled out a Swiss Army Knife, and grabbed a pen from a spectator's pocket, taking it apart with frantic hands.

"I don't think…" One of the fish guys started to say, but the words fell away when Jack used his knife to cut into Daniel's chest below the protruding hilt of the dagger. Daniel started to convulse, and Jack yelled out for people to hold him down. Two jumped forward at his bark. It had been her chance, but like most of them, George was too shocked to move.

_Was he insain!_

But then Jack inserted the outer tubing of the pen into the cut he'd made and there was a small hiss of sound.

_Uh. Maybe this guy would live, after all. _

Then the EMT's arrived and the crowd was pushed back. George smiled. Someone had cheated death. Two someone's, in her opinion. But as she turned to leave she stopped. The gravling was still there, and it looked perplexed.

Frowning, George was no longer sure, of _anything._ Maybe she should follow them to the hospital, just to be sure. She looked down at her watch and sighed.

_So much for getting to work on time. Maybe I should call in sick. Have I done that this month?_

Reaping often made work schedules difficult to work around. And all too often she'd had to come up with excuses. The trick was to use a variety of them. That way no one got suspicious.

Deloris, her boss, and in far too many ways, her pseudo mother in this undead life, gave the usual concern over the phone, suggesting the usual 'plenty of sleep' and…

_Garlic soup? What's with that?_

And George made the usual fake dry coughing sounds, talking as gravelly as possible. "I'm sure it'll pass quickly."

"Well, all right," the still uncertain voice replied over the phone. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Milly."

"I'll be there," George promised, hoping it'd be true. Rent was due soon and she'd missed way too many hours already.

Once she reached the Hospital, George suddenly wondered just how she was going to find 'Daniel' again. All she knew was his first name, which was a change. Usually all she knew was their last name and first initial. So instead of looking for Daniel she went looking for Jack. He was much easier to find.

The man was sitting in one of the waiting chairs inside ER, his head in his hands, elbows propped up on his knees. She took a chair around the corner outside of view, but inside of listening range. Just in time, too. Two people had stepped up to Jack, forcing him to look up. The blond woman was dressed in military blues while the other, a tall black guy was in formal suit, but with a cowboy hat on.

"Colonel?" The woman hesitantly began, her voice breaking.

_Colonel?_

"Is Daniel…?"

But Jack's next words said it all. In a voice so empty is made George shiver, he told them, "He's gone."

She couldn't hang around after that. It was bad enough reaping souls, listening to the grieving of the people the dead left behind was just too much for her. She knew what she had to do now. If another reaper were coming, they'd have come and gone. But if they weren't, there was no way in Hell she was leaving his soul trapped in his body like that.

Slipping into the ER itself, she snagged someone's white coat they'd left laying across a chair. Keeping her head down and moving quickly, George finally found who she was looking for. The knife had been removed, and his chest was a gory mess from the medics attempt at saving his life, but none of the sensors attached were on, and no air came through the tube –an actual tube now, not the pen- to give evidence of life.

But his soul was still there. She could feel it. Feeling as if she'd already let him down somehow, George sighed, and then resolutely reached out and touched the body, pulling the soul out as she did. Daniel, or Daniel's _soul_, responded to her touch, rising up into a sitting position before he gained his feet, stepping away from the surgical table.

"I'm sorry I took so long," George apologized.

Daniel looked at her perplexed, then at himself, his chest still pierced and open, but with a lot less blood, and then finally at his dead body on the table.

"This isn't how it happened the _last_ time I died."

TBC


End file.
